For most of Britain, this week’s identification of Richard III’s skeleton was
unambiguously good news: a stirring tale of the persistence of
archaeologists and the skill of geneticists. Not so, however, in King Alfred
Place, Winchester.

“He was only on the throne two and a half years,” says Rose Burns, a local
resident, dismissively.

“If it wasn’t for Shakespeare,” adds a neighbour, Edward Fennell, “no one
would care.”

As far as Mr Fennell and Ms Burns are concerned, there is only one
subterranean sovereign who counts. Right now, the only English king to gain
the epithet “great” could be less